


The Fall of Turgon

by JumperDarling



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:05:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumperDarling/pseuds/JumperDarling
Summary: Turgon reflects upon the Fall of Gondolin.





	The Fall of Turgon

**Author's Note:**

> This work was a school project, in which we had to write a stream of consciousness. I didn't want to do it for my real life, and instead, did one on Turgon's final moments. I figured I would put it here.  
> I tried to follow the actual story as closely as possible, but I had a page limit, and had to cut some things out.  
> Also, while copying it here, I realized that Turgon wouldn't have known a few things, like about Maeglin, but oh well.

I look down upon my city, watch as it burns and my people flee from the flames. I know that it is hopeless. There is nothing that can be done. I have failed my people.

_ Why did you not listen to Idril? She knew it would come to this, and tried to warn you. But you are a fool and thought the city invincible. No city is invincible; you let it fall to weakness. _

I listen to the screams of elves as they are cut down by the orcs. They are sounds that will haunt me even through death. I know that death awaits us. There is no chance at survival. Not against this foe.

_ You are a fool, Turgon! You trusted those that cannot be trusted. You have led your people to ruin! _

I watch as Tuor and Ecthelion retreat into the King’s Square. They are covered in blood and soot, like everything else in this place of death. They are exhausted. There is no hope for any of us. We can only hope that we die quickly. Tuor leads many women and children into my halls, freed from the orc’s captivity. Why? The walls will not stop them! It will be a slaughter--after all, none can escape. I made this city a prison; there is no way out save by the way the Enemy came in.

_You should have listened when they warned you. You should have ignored Maeglin, that traitor. They could see it, why couldn’t you?  _

The House of the Golden Flower has retreated into the Square. I watch as they are closely followed by those monsters. Ecthelion falls, plunging to his death in the fountain. So ironic, how the Lord of the House of the Fountain is killed by his own namesake. I turn away. I cannot watch as my soldiers and trusted advisors die. As my beloved city falls and burns. It is only fitting that I shall fall and burn with it.

How did I get here, on the Stairs? I could not have walked down here. But I must have, for I am armed and prepared for battle. But why? There is no hope that any in this city will survive.

I watch as my people die from the heat alone. So how does anyone expect to escape with their lives? No one can. We will perish here in our beloved city, now our tomb.

_ Of course it is to be our tomb. You thought that Gondolin would be safe. You should have known that Morgoth would hunt you down. You’ve heard of all of the other kingdom’s downfalls. Were you really so blind as to think that Gondolin would escape that fate? _

I look up in time to see a dragon, the foul serpent, rush me. I am about to die. I know this. I embrace this. I failed my people, I deserve to die.

Why am I not dead? Was there not the dragon, the balrog? Why am I still alive, standing on the steps of my palace?

Where did they come from? Were Glingol and Bansil not dead, after all? Did they really just save me?

_ You don’t deserve to be saved. You failed to protect the city, the people. Had you built that tunnel, maybe you could have saved some of these people. But you didn’t… _

“Great is the fall of Gondolin.” Did I really just say that? But it is true. Is this not a great fall, a destruction by flame and shadow, by the hands of orcs and balrogs and dragons? Is there no greater way to fall to your doom?

And I will fall with it.

But wait, Tuor answers my words. “Gondolin stands yet, and Ulmo will not suffer it to perish!” ah, Tuor. If only that were true. But Ulmo, lord of the waters, is nowhere near this valley. He cannot save us. And Gondolin will soon fall to the wrath of the darkness, to this shadow and fire. Ai, is fate not ironic? Again, I stand on the Stairs as Tuor stands before me like the day he arrived.

“Evil have I brought upon the Flower of the Plain in despite of Ulmo, and now he leaveth it to wither in the fire. Lo! hope is no more in my heart for my city of loveliness, but the children of the Noldoli shall not be worsted for ever.” Can he not see that I speak the truth? There is no way that the city will escape, and there is no hope that we shall survive. “Fight not against doom, O my children! Seek ye who may safety in flight [ _not that there is any way to flee by_ ] , if perhaps there be time yet: but let Tuor have your lealty.” After all, I don’t deserve it. I led this city to ruin.

“Thou art king.” Will Tuor not let this go? I have failed as king! “Yet no blow will I strike more.” There is nothing more for me to say. I take my crown and cast it down besides his feet. I am a fool, and I have led this kingdom to ruin. You, Tuor, are far more worthy to be King than I. Galdor, loyal lord that he is, tries to give me back my crown. Can they not see that I am not fit to be king? That I have brought us all to ruin? What have I done to instill such loyalty and faith in my people? I do not deserve this! I watch from afar as my body move, as my lips speak words that I cannot hear. I am numb, and have found my way to the top of my tower. My people beg of me to save them, this much I know. Why will they not leave me? I am not worthy to be king. Let Tuor lead, let him rule as the wise and just king that I was not. I know not what I am saying; let it not be that I shall rule. Go! Flee! Save yourselves while you can! I shall remain and fall with this city that I so dearly love.

I feel as if I am already separated from my body--is that possible. It feels as if I watch another stand alone at the top of the tower as the dragons twist their way around it, as they climb to the top, where I know I stand. I see my death approach, but I am not afraid. I am ready to die.

As if with a jolt, I feel as if I am once more contained within my body. I am staring into the eyes of a great firedrake. The creature that is about to kill me as I feel the tower begin to crumble beneath me. I am ready to die. Take me, Námos...


End file.
